Lady Of The Night
by Electric Pop
Summary: After Ginny takes a job a Marcus Flint's Gentleman's Club, she faces her childhood enemy, Draco Malfoy. With dark secrets from her past swearing to come back, being blackmailed by Draco was not part of her plan, but neither was falling in love.
1. Choices and Callings

**Author's Note**: This idea came to me just randomly and even though I'm currently writing a different  
Draco/Ginny fanfiction, I decided that starting another one wouldn't hurt me. And with that being said,  
this _is_ a Draco/Ginny fanfiction, even though the first couple of chapters may not evoke that feeling.  
Just be patient with me, this fanfiction will definitely get better. :)

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I met Ginny Weasley when she entered **Lady Of The Night**, an exuberant smile sitting on her lips as she confidently strode towards the bar. At first I thought the redhead might be a lesbian, something to that extent anyways, but when the bartender pointed at me, I knew that she wasn't. Girls like Ginny Weasley don't enter **Lady Of The Night **unless they're lesbians or looking for a job, and something was telling me that even though Ginny didn't seem to fit either type, that she was here for a solid, logical reason.

"Marcus Flint?" Her voice was laced with hope and I raised an eyebrow, showing her a face of curiosity. "I was told you had an opening in your line," she'd obviously heard more than just a "now hiring" vocal ad from one of my regulars, "I'm here to audition." At first I wondered if she was serious, but the look in her eyes caused a smirk to settle on my lips.

"Ginny Weasley?" Her red hair gave her away, as did the nod she offered as an answer to the question, "You do know what this establishment does, correct?"

It was Ginny's turn to smirk, she even chuckled cutely at me before going back to that confident, somber look. "With all do respect, Mister Flint, I wouldn't be here if I didn't know what the requirements of this job were." I was surprised and she could tell, obviously my eyes betrayed me and showed Ginny that I was also impressed.

However, I didn't let her look any further than that, she might have seen something she wasn't ready to view. Instead I turned away from her and issued a near inaudible command, "Follow me." Ginny didn't have to be told twice, her heels clicked against the floor and followed me through a long hall way and into a backroom. "Sit down." Again she did as she was told, taking a seat in front of less-than-formal desk, I took a seat in front of her. "What makes you think you're better than the other applicants that I've spoken to?" I hadn't spoken to many, only two, but both of them were automatically in the reject pile so it didn't matter if Ginny thought the job was overflowing with girls or not, I just wanted an answer.

"Mister Flint, I-"

"Call me Marcus."

"Marcus." I could see the wheels in her head churning, processing what was currently taking place and how she could use it to her advantage, she was such a Gryffindor. "I was never a Slytherin, I'm not the type of girl you'd see in a place like this," at least she was covering my thoughts, "but I want this job because I have bills to pay and problems of my own to deal with. Does that mean I'm going to like my job?" She let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like sarcasm laughing, but I didn't mention it. "Probably not, but I'm going to do it. I can dance, I can shake my ass, I can take off my clothes, I can make money." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair to the fullest extent, serious relaxing on her features. "Either you hire me or you don't, I can find a job elsewhere, but I came here because-" but she stopped, pausing, "-I need the money."

I knew that she was being honest with me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story than she was telling me. But I've hired girls on less than what she'd given me, so I shrugged and leaned back in my own chair, that familiar smirk returning. "You, Ginny Weasley, have gotten yourself a job here at **Lady Of The Night**, be here tomorrow at noon to learn your hours, rules, and general orientation. Good day, Miss Weasley." I didn't even get up, but she knew what I meant. A 'thank you' flew from her lips before she could stop it and I just waved her off. Honestly, I hired the girl because I was curious, I hoped she could bring something new to **Lady Of The Night**, nothing new had come to the Gentleman's Club in at least two years. But with a girl like Ginny Weasley, well, I had high hopes for her.

I'd never seen Ginny without clothes before, to be honest, but I figured what the hell, why not give her a chance. Letting out a deep sigh and allowing that smirk on my lips to grow, I couldn't help but wonder if Ginny Weasley knew what she was getting herself into. I hoped the Ginny she would give me tomorrow had the ability to produce the walking sex that the regulars of my strip club enjoyed.

And already I knew that adding the redhead to my collection of girls was a good choice.

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	2. Orientation and Openings

**Author's Note**: I'm glad to hear that Lady Of The Night is such a success. :)  
First chapter already has over 230 hits, so I'm happy to see what it'll ring in  
after chapter two. I want to thank all of you who reviewed, it was my motivation  
to spend the last fifty minutes or so typing up this chapter. Happy reading!

* * *

I heard about Lady Of The Night from a witch in Diagon Alley. While at the time I knew nothing about the place, I was curious. If there was a job opening, then why hadn't that witch taken advantage of it? However plagued I was at first, I quickly got over it and decided that the next course of action was to scope the place out. When I found out that it was a joint run by Marcus Flint, I was immediately turned off. Anything run by a Slytherin can't possibly mean good news, and yet I still wound up standing in front of Marcus yesterday with hopes of getting myself a job.

Lady Of The Night is a strip club, or as they formally call it, a Gentleman's Club. Girls go on stage and perform acts of sexual movement, getting a rise - no pun intended - out of the audience. Even though exotic dance had never been a particular forte of mine, I figured I'd give it a chance. And as I got up this morning and began to take my shower, I practiced seductive moves with the hot water beating down on me. I can't say that I'm good at it, I can't say that I'm bad, I really don't know what someone in the entertainment industry would say about what I can do. Then again, I was good enough to keep a husband for a few years.

He's the reason I was looking for a job. I married Harry Potter at nineteen, two years after graduating from Hogwarts. While the wedding was talked about for months before and after it happened, the marriage was terrible. Harry was often at work, like a husband should be, but I was backburner to the savior of the wizarding world. The fact of the matter is that his auror job was more important than me. I worked, don't get me wrong, but I took maternity leave about five months into carrying his child. James Potter was born roughly four months later and in less than a year I was pregnant again, so maintaining my job was pretty much shot to hell. After Albus was born I had my hands full, as did Harry. He worked in an office eight hours a day, I worked at home twenty four hours a day; you could say that it was a fulfilling marriage when he came home, played with the kids, ate some dinner, and then crashed. The problem was that Harry and I weren't in love anymore, not after giving birth to Albus; so we filed for divorce.

And that was why I wound up at Lady Of The Night, I needed the money. Harry still works at the Ministry and while I see him every weekend, I have custody of the kids because he doesn't have the time. After awhile I couldn't just sit at home anymore, I was running out of money and I needed to get back into the work world. I'll be turning twenty four in a few months and really, with a five and four year old, I can get away with not being home at all hours of the day. Luna Lovegood has happily decided to take care of the kids when need be, she and Neville are waiting on making a couple of their own. But while I don't know my schedule, I felt almost like I badgered them when I showed up this afternoon and pleaded. Luna is a good friend though and waved it off, saying that it wasn't a problem. She will be a great mother.

But standing in front of the door of Lady Of The Night with noon approaching fast, I'm not sure if I've made the right decision. Am I willing to tell my sons in ten years that their mother was once a stripper? I don't remember the answer to that question because I was inside the Lady Of The Night before I could tell myself this was quite possibly the stupidest choice I had ever made. Immediately I was welcomed with a devious smirk on Marcus Flint's lips. Current employer or not, my entire body cringed.

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley. Do you mind if I call you Ginny?" I shrugged, trying not to say something that would otherwise change his mind about the job. "I would have required you do an audition yesterday, but there wasn't any time. So if you don't mind, just hop up on the stage and show me what you've got."

Merlin, he was blunt. I nodded and placed by purse on the edge of the stage, hoisting myself up and then gracefully pulling myself to stand tall. Marcus had disappeared, I don't know where to, but he had. The next thing I know there's music floating through Lady Of The Night and Marcus is sitting in a chair in front of me, staring, waiting. I couldn't tell you what happened if I could remember, just that five minutes later the music stopped and Marcus was waving me off the stage.

"I have to say that I've never seen anything like that before." I openly winced and Marcus just laughed. "That's not necessarily a bad thing, Ginny, it means that after a few nights of practice you'll be good to perform on Fridays and Saturdays." I honestly didn't know the difference between one day and the next anymore, let alone nights of performing. "Your body is kicking, but your ability is raw. You have serious potential to be one of our best dancers, but you'll be paired with Daphne Greengrass for the duration of your orientation."

I frowned, what did that mean? "What's my schedule?"

"For the next two weeks you'll be working Sunday through Thursday, eight to midnight. The pay is three galleons an hour and whatever tips you get, you can keep." Now I remembered why I wanted this job so badly, the pay was fantastic. "In two weeks you'll do another audition and you'll probably be moved to Wednesdays through Sundays, eight to two. The pay for those nights are five galleons an hour, seven on Fridays and Saturdays. Wednesday through Sunday girls are the best we have, so work your ass off these next two weeks and you'll be playing with the big girls soon." Marcus checked his wrist, wincing at the time. "Be here tonight at seven, Daphne will give you an hour of training and then you'll be out on the floor."

I swear I was bug eyed, or else Marcus wouldn't have winced and asked if I was okay. "Yeah, I'm good, just processing," I said in a nervous tone, mentally chastising myself. "I'll be here," I smiled as brightly as I could, "thank you." He nodded and then grabbed my purse off the stage, handing it to me.

"See you tonight, Ginny Weasley, don't be late." He could count on me, I needed the money more than I needed anything else.

The next few hours passed in a blur. I spent half the time playing with James and Albus and the other half trying to pick out an outfit that would be remotely sexy to dance in, but being a mother meant I didn't own that type of clothing. However, I did have an old Hogwarts uniform that I thought would work perfectly until I could go out and buy some proper clothing. Turns out I was right, the skirt was too short and the shirt was too tight, but I figured that hey, Lady Of The Night was an exotic dance slash strip club, the sexier the better. By the time I had everything picked out, Hermione had arrived. I enlisted her help with the boys and when she found out that it was because I had a job, she was thrilled.

"So Gin, where are you working?" I didn't have an answer for that question, not one that would impress her anyways. If she knew I was working at Lady Of The Night, then she'd go back and rat me out to Ron and that was not something I needed. Adult or not, we still had our fights about my lifestyle.

"I'm taking the evening shift at Poison Ivy," it sounded like a good lie. The Poison Ivy was a gorgeous restaurant on the edge of Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley, but the name said it all. Thankfully Hermione bought it.

"Ooo, that's a fancy place." I tried not to think that she was being condescending, but it was hard. Hermione was a healer at St. Mungo's, a damn good healer, but still higher than me in the wizarding world and thus looking down on me because I hadn't made as much of myself as she had.

"I'll be back around one or so. Thank you, for taking care of James and Albus I mean."

I disapparated after that, deciding that too much conversation with her would drive me insane. I really had to speak to Harry about taking care of the kids at night if I took care of them during the day, it would definitely make things easier on me and I wouldn't have to worry about returning favors when Hermione and Luna had children, or for Hermione, another child. I carried my bag into Lady Of The Night and headed to the backrooms, looking for the one that was labeled 'Ginevra Weasley'. My room was down near the end of the hall and everything about it was spectacular. There was a bed - in case I decided to go into the back and do something private with a client, which was not going to happen - and a bathroom, as well as a dresser and a mirror. It seemed quaint.

"Ah, you're hear," a feminine voice broke my thoughts and I whipped around. I could only describe the woman in front of me as celestial, she looked like an angel. "Greengrass? Daphne? You are Ginny Weasley, right?" She had long, curly hair and the most beautiful eyes. If I had been remotely homosexual, she'd have turned me on.

"Oh, oh yes, nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Get on your clothes and meet me on the floor in ten minutes." And then she just disappeared.

Those ten minutes went by fast, especially when trying to squeeze into that bloody skirt! It didn't even brush mid-thigh and if I bent over at all, the lingerie beneath it could easily be seen. The one thing I had kept from my marriage with Harry was the present he gave me for our two year anniversary, three sets of black, red, and maroon lingerie. But I didn't want to think about that, especially when I was trying not to bust out of the shirt or break an ankle from a pair of heels I'd bought for one of Harry's work parties. I'd have to thank him sometime, half of what I was wearing was courtesy of him.

"Sexy," Daphne commented, "but your hair could use a little oomph." She walked over to a table and grabbed a wand, pointing it at my hair and saying a spell and like her hair, it was suddenly curly. She'd have to teach me that for later endeavors into the wonderful world of dating that I might possibly enter one day. "Good. Now let's get on the stage and practice."

The first ten minutes were all about technique. If you want to keep the crowd's eye on you, you have to push out your goodies and shake them. If this appealed to men, I hadn't met any of them. Unless you counted Seamus Finnigan from Hogwarts, but I hadn't seen him since my birthday party last year. The half hour after that Daphne taught me how to harness my body and keep it moving. The dancers weren't just dancing all night, they also waited on tables. Daphne explained that part of our dressing rooms were for sex, blow jobs, or private dancing and while I knew I wouldn't be doing any of that, she gave me some highly valuable information.

"If a man want a private dance, that's five galleons, or more if you can get away with it. Blow jobs are twelve and higher, always charge more if you can. Sex, well that's a different story. Marcus tries to keep that shit out of his bar, but he knows it also pays to have customers satisfied. Sex will cost a man a good fifty galleons, at the very least. Men here know that, but because you're new they'll try and gyp you. Don't fall for it." I wasn't going to do anything in my dressing room other than change, but I was definitely glad to hear the worst case scenarios. "Now let's head backstage, the bar's opening in a few minutes and we're not out until ten after."

I nodded, this was going to be a long night.

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	3. Theaterics and Threats

**Author's Note**: Over eight hundred views since the opening of chapter  
two, as well as ten more reviews. Thank you, I'm glad you all love the  
story. So here's chapter three, unexpectedly sooner than I had planned.  
But since I was home sick today, I was writing a lot. Happy reading!

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One would think that after popping out two kids that Ginny's body would be marred with stretch marks or something of the sort, but as I watched her weave through the crowd with a provocative smile on her lips, I couldn't find any. She'd been working for a grand total of forty five minutes and she'd definitely been good to the boys, they were definitely interested in her bright, different features. At first I thought that was a bad thing, I hadn't counseled the Weasley on what to do if proposed with an offer for something more than just a public lap dance, but she seemed to know what to do. So far she'd been doing good, at least from what I saw.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Daphne Greengrass sauntering over to me with that mind-blowing body of hers and my thoughts about the Weasley were stopped in mid-word, pushed aside for the sexiness of one of my oldest girls. "Hey pretty lady," I greeted with a smirk, "how's my best girl doing?"

"Hold your thestrals," she replied, "I came to talk to you about Ginny." I couldn't say that I was surprised, just a little disappointed that she hadn't offered to promote lap dances by giving me one of them. But hey, I was interested in the firecracker who'd be up on stage soon, so I nodded in acknowledgement to continue. "She's throwing table three for a ringer," she smiled, "they are in love with the girl, no joke." Her hands immediately went up in defense, backing up her point.

I couldn't help but look around Daphne, noticing that table three had their eyes glued on little Miss Ginevra Weasley as she put a tray of drinks down on table seven. My gorgeous lead was correct, the five boys huddled around table three couldn't look away from the redhead's perky chest as she walked over to them, offering a smile and asking if they needed anything. If I hadn't squinted then I wouldn't have noticed who was sitting there, I almost choked on my thoughts.

First was Theodore Nott, married to my current company, Daphne Greengrass. They had an open relationship, they both slept around at work. Daphne did it for money, Theodore did it for shits and giggles. Regardless of how opposed they seemed to be to a relationship, it was hard for others to believe that they were actually married. But both parties always had their ring on them somewhere, pulling it out and slipping it on, showing it off.

Sitting beside him was the lucrative quidditch player, Adrian Pucey. I hadn't seen Pucey's Slytherin ass since Hogwarts, and while I didn't make it my business to keep in contact with everyone I knew, Adrian was definitely someone I should have kept in touch with. I could see his lips moving, speaking to the men beside him, Blaise Zabini and Malcolm Baddock. Those two boys had both been married and divorced in the past couple years; Baddock three times, Zabini twice. One would think that Baddock had learned from previous relationships that marriage didn't work, but he was currently engaged to Millicent Bulstrode, wife number four, all hope to that marriage. Blaise was taking some time off the dating scene, he was one of my regulars and so I knew him pretty well. Zabini was convinced that there wasn't a girl in the world who could handle his hectic schedule, the truth was that he was scared of commitment, but I don't share my customer's secrets.

And in the final chair, wearing a passive expression, was Draco Malfoy. Anyone who knew the feud between the Malfoys and the Weasleys would guess that Ginny was being a complete bitch to Draco, but quite the opposite in fact. I like to think it's because she got the hang of her job, but in reality it's because he's a good tipper, everyone knows that. Because Ginny was assigned to their table, she flirted and chatted up with the men like she'd be here for years. Now if only she could dance as well as she captivated table three, then perhaps Malfoy would bestow another gift to Lady of the Night.

I made my fortune at this bar, but it hadn't been easy. The first year of business my entrance fee was twenty galleons, which was low in comparison to a few places. But at the time I had some French broads from Beauxbatons that the boys would have given their left nut to sleep with for the rest of their lives. As Lady of the Night moved up in seniority, so did the price to enter the bar. We're currently at a standing total of seventy five galleons, but even then that's not enough to keep the bar open. That's what I love most about people like Draco Malfoy and his little gang of friends, they liked to donate money when they saw someone they liked. If Ginny danced her ass off tonight and Malfoy came back when she was here on Fridays and Saturdays, I'd be getting a pretty nice chunk of change. Not to say that my fortune was miniscule, it was constantly growing, but I liked my bar too much to let it go and loved my Gringotts vault too much to use all my funds to keep it up and running. Needless to say, people like Draco Malfoy helped me add more to my fortune galleon by galleon and I personally wasn't complaining.

Slowly ten o'clock drew near, more customers coming in while others left. The latest Lady of the Night had ever been open was at four in the morning and that was during the first week of it's opening, the latest since then had been two. I set a ban a couple years ago that the girls didn't work past one in the morning, meaning that the boys could stay, but the girls were gone. So as the premiere of Ginny Weasley closed in, I kept my eyes on her. She smiled and winked at one of the boys at table three, I wasn't sure who but I was willing to bet that it was Zabini, before she left the floor.

The shows at Lady of the Night came each hour on the hour. Usually we had seven people working, so some nights certain girls didn't get to perform, but there was always a girl who performed every night, unless she was off. Daphne was one of those girls and I had a feeling that Ginny would become one soon enough, but I tried not to let myself over-estimate her first performance. If she couldn't dance in front of the audience, which I estimated to be around a hundred men or so, then she'd have to be fired and replaced. But at exactly ten the lights went out and music filled the air, heels clicked against the stage and a spotlight turned on, the show began.

If I wasn't the least bit sexually interested in Ginny, then I was now. Beneath that powder blue light with that burlesque music dramatizing the air, she looked like an angel. When she started moving, I had no doubt that she was. Her audition had been rough, that was why I let her work with Daphne before performing, but now she looked flawless. Ginny's body wrapped around the pole with incredible flexibility, sinking down the silver while biting her lip sexily. Part of the reason Lady of the Night was famous happened to be because the girls could get a reaction out of almost every guy in the bar. And damned if Ginny's legs spreading on the stage didn't get a reaction out of my nether regions; not like I could control that or anything, simply that it led me to believe Ginny had somehow done this before.

I can't even remember when she lost her shirt, but having kids had sure done a job on her breasts, they looked permanently swollen with lust and desire. Then again, it could have been the light, or the dirty thoughts in my head. It took every ounce of willpower I had to look over in Draco Malfoy's direction, to see what he thought. His eyes were transfixed on Ginny, watching as she slipped out of skirt and winked into the crowd, dancing around in lace lingerie. I'd seen Draco interested in a girl before, but never in the way he was now. I don't think I saw him blink the entire time I stared at him before I had to turn my own eyes back to Ginny.

Her fifteen minutes of fame, literally, were over before I knew it. Ginny's eyes had been watching the clock in a way I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't seen it before and I knew this because as the music wound down she latched herself to the pole into a provocative pose and held it as the lights went black once again. When they went back to their dimmed, usual state, Ginny and her clothes were no where to be found, thank Merlin; she'd remembered to get off stage in the fifteen seconds that the lights remained off, as well as collect all shed clothing. I was spell bound for a minute, standing there before I smiled and watched the night continue; Ginny was ready for prime time.

Ginny came back to work her tables after a few minutes, once again clothed in her original attire. I couldn't picture anything but her breasts threatening to pop out of her bra, so there was nothing I could say to her at the moment. She just went on with what she'd been previously doing as though she'd never stopped, smiling and thanking the men when they complimented her show. I don't know where she got her training, but that was definitely another aspect of Ginevra Weasley's life that I would have to look into on my next day off, whenever that was.

When her shift came to an end, Draco's group of men were still there, playing a game of poker and trying to get Ginny to involve herself with them. I watched her roll her eyes and wave them off playfully before she said her good-byes, heading straight to her dressing room to change. Even though there was still another hour before Lady of the Night closed, I had to alert Ginny of the good news that was now facing her. Besides, I was finally able to compliment her on the performance she'd given two hours ago, that stunning effect she had on me was over.

So I followed after Ginny a couple minutes later, making sure she had a chance to get settled and possibly changed before I came knocking. A faint 'come in' followed and I obliged, entering to find Ginny in mid-change. I thought about turning around and leaving, but since she'd bared her half naked body to a fraction of the Wizarding World as it was, I figured she didn't mind. "You did good tonight, Ginny," I lazily smiled, "I have to be honest when I say that I didn't expect your performance to be that outrageous." She looked up at me, fear in her eyes. "I mean that in a good way," I reassured her, the fear disappearing. "That's why I'd like to invite you to the advanced shift of eight to two, Wednesdays to Sundays. You up for it?"

She didn't get to respond when a knock at the door came, she nodded for me to answer it. Opening the door I smiled widely, embracing the person with a hug. "Come in, come in," I ushered the guest in, surprising Ginny in the process. Now standing in her dressing room was Draco Malfoy and me, I'm almost positive she thought we were going to rape her just from the look in her eyes. "Draco Malfoy, Ginevra Weasley," I introduced them even though I knew they had already met.

"Yes, I know who she is," he was curt with his response, "Potter's ex-wife." Ginny didn't seem to take that as brightly as I had expected, instead she glared at him. "I was just wondering what brought you to Lady of the Night, Ginny," he used her first name, "do your do-gooder friends know?"

I half expected her to grab her wand and hex him, I'd heard enough rumors about her temper that I would have even bet on that conclusion, instead she used her words. "What I do is no one's business but my own, Mister Malfoy," she noted in a business-like manner, "now if you excuse me, I have to be getting home. And yes, Marcus, I'll be taking the Wednesday to Sunday schedule." Ginny stuffed her clothes from the day into her bag and zipped it, picking it up and walking past us when Draco grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. I would have stopped him, but I was so shocked I couldn't move.

"Don't think that your job here is permanent, I donate more to this establishment in a year than you'll probably make in your entire lifespan," he sneered, "don't piss me off or I'll give Marcus whatever amount of money he wants to fire you. Do you understand, Ginny Weasley?" Draco's grip tightened on her arm when she didn't move or say anything, "Besides, I'm sure Potter would love to hear that his ex-wife isn't with her kids because she's a stripper in training." He released her arm, finally letting a smirk cross his lips when nearly bowed her head in resignation.

"Your wish is my command, Mister Malfoy," I sensed a little hostility in her words, "I'm heading home for the evening." But evening had already passed, telling her that didn't seem to be the greatest ideas though, she walked away with rigid steps, anger in every one of them.

I turned on Draco, glaring. "The only girl who could possibly out dance Daphne and you threaten her," I threw my hands up, "what do you have against Ginny?"

Draco looked around her dressing room, noting the organization before he turned around to look at me again. "Nothing," he shrugged, "but she's good and she's obviously hiding something, I plan to find out what it is." He wasn't the only one, I'm sure he knew that too, but he didn't ask for my help just yet. "Besides, she hexed me in my fifth year," Draco began in a careless tone, "Malfoys never forget and we always get even." It looked like he was about to smile, instead his smirk just intensified. "I'd like to speak to you in private tomorrow night, matters concerning Miss Weasley," he nodded, "but for the evening, good night." And he departed.

For some reason I had a feeling that I was about to become best friends with one of my greatest benefactors.

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	4. Propositions and Partnerships

**Author's Note**: Do you know how happy you have made me? Over 700 views since the opening  
of chapter three! Not just that, I've reached 32 reviews as well, which excites me beyond all  
possible belief. :) There are over 30 on the alert list of this fanfiction as well, which amazes me.  
This is chapter four, and it's a smidge shorter than I expected, but it does the job I suppose. I'm  
working with very little until the full blown plot kicks in. :) Which is why I'm going to proposition  
you, my dear readers. When I reach 100 reviews _or_ 10000 hits, currently at 1500-ish, I will  
gladly write a 5000 word chapter for everyone and dedicate a one-shot to the person who I  
feel has inspired me to write the most. When I say dedication I mean which ever pairing you want,  
either my plot or yours, and a fabulous fic in which I will work my ass off for you. So hopefully  
this little challenge will spark review madness, anonymous and members alike. Hope you like  
chapter four, I liked writing Draco (though forgive me for the darkness). I'm just glad that I am  
fueled by readers' happiness! (Which is why I update somewhat fast.) Happy reading!

* * *

I was never quite sure where I stood with Marcus Flint, just that at Hogwarts I bought my way onto his quidditch team and wound up losing to Harry 'bloody' Potter at our first game versus the Gryffindors. Somehow I believe that bought me a position on his hit list as well, especially when one recounts the tale of the embarrassing loss; I never did apologize to Marcus for that either, I didn't think it was a necessity when my father had just bought him a new broom.

After my own graduation, however, I looked Marcus up. It wasn't that I was interested in finding him and apologizing, far from it actually, but rumor had it that he opened a bar in Knockturn Alley. This news came to me in the form of Astoria Greengrass, my ex-housemates younger sister. While I pondered her accusation of Marcus Flint's bar owning, I rifled through business history at Gringotts and found that a few years ago he'd borrowed a large sum of money from Gringotts, only to be repaying it and starting his own bank account a few months later. While technically I shouldn't have been looking through the files, when you have connections in Gringotts, you can do any damn thing you please. So I went searching for this so-called bar and what I stumbled on was life changing.

Marcus Flint had created a Gentleman's Club. There only factor that kept Flint's bar being called a bar was that no nudity happened in the public eye. I knew that the ladies had dressing rooms, often transformed into makeshift bedrooms for private acts. But there was never a moment when I came to Lady of the Night that I saw someone on stage get physically nude; there was really no need for that anyways, the girls were sexy as it was. Especially Daphne Greengrass who had - as far as I knew - been working since shortly after graduation, six years or so. I admired her ability to put up with Theodore's shit, but I would never tell her. It didn't matter though, she was confident and cocky enough to know just by looking at me.

But last night was surreal, unlike most of the night's I'd spent at Flint's bar. Usually I went and got my daily dose of sexy ex-Slytherin's and French girls slithering up and down that pole like they'd been doing it their entire life, so I went in expecting the same thing I always got. Merlin was I surprised to see red hair wandering around the floor taking orders, I was so intrigued that I asked Daphne to get the girl to wait on us. I was hoping that it wasn't who I thought it was, but when the redhead walked to our table in that provocative schoolgirl outfit of hers, I knew that it was.

Ginevra Weasley.

Anyone with a brain read the Daily Prophet, as well as Witch Weekly. The Daily Prophet was for important news while the latter was for gossip, but both of them covered Harry and Ginny's wedding, the birth of their two kids, and their divorce. I thought that inheriting the Malfoy Manor and fortune, as well as several businesses in France, Italy, and Spain was newsworthy, but apparently in correlation to the bloody Potter family I was nothing. Funny how being a multi-billionaire of galleons meant nothing while a few measly pieces of gossip could cover the pages of the Daily Prophet for days. You can see how infuriated I was, and rightly so! Who in their bloody fucking mind gives a cover to a pair of idiots over someone who could buy out their paper and _still_ have millions left over? Fuckers.

Honestly, I got over it, but not the fact that the girl who'd stolen my front page story was standing before me clad in too-tight school clothes trying to impress us all. I have to admit that for the most part she succeeded, but when it came to me, I had to be seduced. While that's nearly impossible - except for certain gorgeous creatures who walk this earth - I expected her to at least try. But that didn't happen, I could feel the tension radiating off her body and while it was quite the turn-off, I still hadn't forgiven her.

Which was why I invaded her dressing room when she stepped off the floor at midnight. I figured hey, if the bitch is going to fuck up my life, why not return the favor? After her performance I knew what Marcus was doing, he's so bloody predictable, but I don't blame him. Anyone with a pulse would have been popping boners if they saw what Ginny had done on stage, of course I didn't, but that's because I've trained my boy well. Regardless, Ginny's privacy was of no issue to me, my plan had formulated since the moment I knew who the new girl was.

Now I've been a benefactor to Marcus Flint's bar for quite some time, which is why I think I have more influence over the girls in his bar than he does, but that's not the point. The point is that while I threatened to fire his hottest new sex kitten without so much as a legitimate reason, the only reason Flint let me talk was because my money backed up his company more so than anyone else. He'd go under without me, he knows that. Why? Because I'd tear him down. If someone doesn't have my blessing, I'm not afraid to fuck them over. Sure, it doesn't always work, but those are special circumstances and even then I still get a little piece of what I'd been working towards.

And even now, as I focus on straightening my suit, I know what I'm going to do to the girl. Revenge should be an automatic thing, don't you think? I personally wanted to chop Harry Potter's dick off when he stole my cover, but really, there wouldn't have been much to work with, so I decided to wait. I waited for four damned years and now the perfect opportunity has arisen and I am kvelling. However, Ginny Weasley is not my victim, at least she wasn't supposed to be.

Ginny Weasley has never been a target in my life, an obstacle, it was always Harry Potter. Granted that she seemed to be there when he got in my way, but that makes no difference, he still got in my way regardless of her presence. When I try and think about why I want to bring the Weasley down, I chalk it up to the fact that she hexed me back when I was a fifth year. There was nothing funny about being attacked by my own bogies, not like I have bogies, just that if I did it wouldn't have been funny. That's how I convinced myself that Ginny would be a great target, because Potter obviously cares for her regardless of their less-than-married status. And then there's the little factor that she's not telling her family about her newest job, so the dirt comes into play.

That's why, as I apparated to the Lady of the Night, I had called the meeting with Marcus Flint. She _was_ his employee after all, I needed her to continue working there if I wanted to use it against her. Yes, that's right, blackmail. Someone has to pay for what happened, back during the fifth year and four years ago, and that someone was Ginevra Weasley. She can just wave good-bye to her spotless reputation when I'm through with her.

"Ever-so-prompt, Malfoy," Marcus drawled as I walked into the bar, I couldn't help but smirk. Even when we were younger we teased each other, some said we'd make a good gay couple, they lost their ability to speak after that, literally.

"Only for you, Flint," I mused. Marcus chuckled and nodded his head down the hall towards his office and we took off at a leisurely pace. Just from the way he walked so nonchalant down the hall I knew that he was interested in my idea, and I hadn't even shared it with him yet! Marcus was into anything if it involved hot girls, firewhiskey, or galleons; doubly if there was more than one at the same time. Marcus ushered me into his office and into my very own chair.

"Now, Draco," in private we weren't so formal, "what was last night all about? You threatened my newest girl," and there he went, "practically broke her spirit, and then called a meeting." Marcus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, "What's this **all** about?"

It was my turn to smirk, I knew he was interested in my plan. "Simple," I mimicked his posture in my own chair, "the Weasley has something her friends don't know about, and she knows that it could ruin her." It was so simple, so vicious, that I couldn't believe it'd taken me near all night to plan. "Her precious little sons would be all-too-curious if they found out their mom was a dancer, not to mention her friends and ex-husband would be shocked by her behavior." The smirk grew, "She'd have custody of her boys taken away and lose all status and reputation that she's worked for in the Wizarding World." I paused, but only for a second, "I'm not above destroying her for my ultimate revenge, which would definitely skew into avenging myself against Harry 'bloody' Potter."

"But why my girl?" There was no shame in his voice when he called one of the biggest blood traitorous families one of his, at least the first girl in decades. "It was her first night and all of a sudden she's another project to you," he raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"Did you not hear me?" Anger was rising in my voice, "It started when she was a first year. That little bitch stood up to me when I was clearly speaking to Harry Potter. Let's not forget that she was so infatuated with him that it wasn't even funny." The last few words were spoken with disdain and obvious disgust. "And then came my fifth year, a year she promptly cast the Bat Bogey Hex on me." Oh the memories! "And then, after my father died and I inherited everything, I was drowned out but that little wench's dramatic problems with her bloody ex-husband." I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want revenge, Marcus Flint, and I want it now. Potter has his head so far up his ass with that Lovegood chick that now is the perfect time to render him weak by appealing to his fatherly senses." Funny how I knew this, but that's another story for another day. "Either you're in or you're out, Marcus."

I wish I could say that it was that easy for Marcus to make up his mind, but it wasn't. He had ethics as her boss and then ethics at being an old rival, thank Merlin I didn't have any ethics or morals or bullshit like that. "I'm not against you, Draco, don't get me wrong," Marcus began to assure me, "but I'm not going to intentionally blackmail her, which is what I know you're doing." I couldn't hide the deviousness in the smirk that threatened to unveil itself. "I'll help you, but I'm your silent partner, got it?"

I nodded, "Whatever you say, Marcus Flint." I shoved my hand in his direction, "Deal?"

Marcus hesitated for a minute before leaning forward, letting out a sigh of finality. "Without a doubt."

Watch out, Ginny Weasley, there's a storm coming.


	5. Perjury and Potter

**Author's Note**: I would have added more to this chapter, but there's an intricate  
part to the ending of Draco and Ginny's conversation that just cries out chapter  
six. :) So anywho! I'm currently at 45 reviews and 2300+ reads, I am definitely  
excited about the response to this fic. Currently in reviewer lead - for the prize  
of a fanfic dedicated to them (check out chapter four) - is Blissfulxsin with nine  
points followed by Lostandawaiting with seven. So yay, thank you Blissful and  
Lost, you both are fantastic. Anywho, happy reading everybody, keep reviewing!

* * *

What was I supposed to tell Harry? "I'm sorry, but I can't take care of the kids at night because I'm dancing at Marcus Flint's gentleman club." That would go over well, but really, I didn't want to chance it. Instead, I waited outside his office with an appointment at 3:30, hoping that making this some sort of business transaction would open Harry's mind to the idea. As I sat, I thought.

Last night had been exhilarating, that was deduced from the moment the doors opened and the men started trickling in. There were a few females, all who looked equally fantastic, but it was Daphne who pointed me out to the hottest men of the evening: table three. Now I have to say that serving a bunch of Slytherins didn't seem like my cup of tea, but I can't say that it wasn't fun. It wasn't until after my stage dance at ten that I was actually revved up to play the part I'd been assigned.

Anyone who was at the club last night could have told you that it wasn't something they'd expect from a Weasley, and I don't blame them. Gyrating against a pole, dancing near-nude, _I_ wouldn't have believed it was me, but surprisingly it was. All the fears I had about falling flat on my face or failing didn't even surface until Draco Malfoy entered my dressing room and properly reprimanded me for being the same person I always had been. And then, the nerve of the bastard, he threatened to fire me! He's not Marcus Flint, but I know he can throw his weight around as if he was.

However, his menial threat didn't effect me after I left, they were just words. Draco Malfoy had nothing on me, there wasn't a damn thing he could say to get me fired other than not liking me. And while that would have been enough if he decided to pay Flint off, it wasn't good enough reason if Flint actually cared about that. Then again, he could-

"Miss Weasley," the receptionist cut off my thoughts, "Mister Potter will see you now." I nodded and grabbed my bag, heading into Harry's office with a smile on my face.

The moment I saw Harry all the memories of being young and in love flooded back to me, he was as handsome as ever. Twenty five looked good on the Auror, even I had to admit that. "Hey," I opened in a soft tone, biting my lip, "looking good." I figured I looked like the same lovesick idiot I had at Hogwarts regardless of being more than over him, but really it didn't matter, as long as he listened to my proposal.

"Hey Gin," he greeted with a grand smile, getting up from his desk and coming to hug me. "If you wanted to see me you didn't have to make an appointment," Harry laughed into my hair, his breath hot against my neck. If I wasn't completely head over heels in love with hating the man, I would have gone weak in the knees, though old habit _did_ threaten to die hard.

"Funny," I pulled away from him, "but this really is sort of business, so I figured a meeting was in order." Harry turned away from me, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk, "Thank you," I murmured as I took it, watching him walk briskly back to his original seat. "It's about the kids," I instantly regretted the start.

"Oh no, what happened?" He was growing frantic. "Did something happen to James? Albus?" His heart was pounding, I could see it in his eyes.

I quickly shook my head, watching relief flood over him. "I know I have custody and all," I bit my lip again, how was I supposed to phrase this? "But I can't take care of the kids in the evenings anymore." I wanted to close my eyes and brace myself for the blow, but that would look entirely too suspicious.

"Why not?" He didn't miss a beat.

"I got a job," so neither did I.

"Where at?" Damn he was good.

"Poison Ivy," I remembered to stick to the same story I'd given Hermione. I didn't want the two of them to conspire against me and try and figure out what I was really doing. "I work nightshift," I wasn't going to tell him that the only reason I was doing so was because he was too incompetent to remember that I had to live off support checks, not just the kids. "So I need you to take the kids at nights while I take them during the day."

Harry seemed to ponder on the thought, thumbing the pen in his hand but not saying anything, I always hated that about him. "What time?"

"Around five, if possible." Again he did his pondering thing, it really pisses me off. Why can't he be a normal person with a normal answer?

"Okay," he decided, "I'll do it." Harry got up, circling his desk again and pushing his hand towards me, "do you want to go to lunch?"

I grabbed his hand and helped myself up, my bag still hanging from my right arm as I swayed slightly. "What kind of girl would I be to turn down a free lunch?" He laughed, I always liked his laugh.

"Where to, m'lady?" Merlin, he could be so three centuries ago.

* * *

"And that's how I got the job at the Ivy." I had spent the last ten minutes telling Harry about my fake interview, my fake new employer, my fake coworkers, my fake life; and he was impressed. I have to admit that seeing him nodded with that 'damn, she's done good' kind of way really made me smug, but I still lied nonetheless, so I didn't absorb any of the compliments that were shining in Harry's eyes. "So how are you and Luna?" I stiffened, but I figured I had to ask.

"Well as you know her father died," I felt bad, "so she's running the Quibbler. When he died last month she ran a week of old articles he'd written, all of the popular ones." Should I have felt worse? Yes. Luna Lovegood was making a legitimate living while I, on the other hand, was not. I was an exotic dancer at Lady of the Night, she was getting over her father's death and working on building up her father's newspaper to be better than it had been when he was running it. Hell yeah I should have felt worse, but I didn't.

"What about your relationship?"

He seemed to blush at this, looking down at his Butterbeer as he did so. Ah, always the shy one when it came to affairs of the heart. That was another reason I fell out of love with him; I like an abrasive man at times, Harry Potter is not and will never be an abrasive man, at least not the abrasive man I want.

"I'm thinking of proposing," he mumbled to his drink, I'm surprised I heard him. I am equally surprised that the liquid in my mouth hadn't found it's way all over the table, but really, I have enough self-control to keep myself from splashing him with my own bodily fluids. "And," he looked around before leaning over the table, "she might be pregnant." That was when the liquid in my mouth became the liquid on Harry's face.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I apologized profusely, "I-I-really?" That was abrupt. "When-how-what?" Harry laughed while wiping the Butterbeer off his face, I really did feel bad about that.

"We found-"

"Ah, Ginevra Weasley," a smooth voice came out of nowhere, entering the picture. I whipped around in my seat to see Draco Malfoy standing behind me, my throat when dry and my tongue swelled; oh Merlin, I was about to be revealed. "Lovely to see you again," he was too gentlemanly for me to decipher what he was going to do. Luckily, Harry spoke so I wouldn't have to. I really had to remember to send him a fruit basket or something.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Harassing the innocent?"

I wasn't looking at Draco any longer, but his hands were placed on the back of my chair; I knew that wasn't good. "I don't harass, Potter," he stated, "besides, even if I did, Ginevra is hardly innocent. Take last night for instance."

For the love of Merlin, I was ruined! "Well," I interjected, "I'll be right back Harry." I got out of my chair and turned around, glaring at Draco before grabbing him by the arm and dragging him through the restaurant and to the outdoor area to the front. "What the bloody hell is your problem, Malfoy?"

"I just thought I'd drop in and see one of Flint's newest employees, I do it quite often actually." I doubted that, I seriously doubted that.

"Well I'm having a semi-formal lunch here and I'd really appreciate if you did not bring up last night," I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes, "please, Malfoy."

That may have been the first time I ever heard him laugh, or chuckle to be exact, and I can't say that it was good. A chill ran down my spine and I tensed beneath the hand that touched my lower back and pulled me into his body. I could have died that very minute without having a single regret, in fact, I'd probably have preferred it. Instead Draco leaned down, his breath a mix of temperatures against my neck. "He doesn't know, does he?" Draco probably realized, from the tension in my body, that he was right. "What would he say if he found out that the mother of his children was _exposing_ herself to half the male wizarding population?" Murder looked like a good option right about now.

"Don't tell him," I pleaded in a voice that couldn't be much more than a whisper, "please, I'll do anything." The minute I said it I regretted it, I knew almost immediately that those were the words he'd been waiting for.

"Good," he smirked against my cheek, "tell Potter you have to cut lunch short, we have some things to talk about." Draco released me, pulling away, "I'll be at the _Poison Ivy_ when you're done here." He knew. He knew everything. I don't know how he did it, how he always knew, but he did. And damn it, I was screwed. "Do I make myself clear?" All I could do was nod before turning around and heading back to Harry.

My heart beat had never been so rapid before, I'd never felt more on edge than five seconds ago, but I somehow weaved my way through the tables and back to Harry. I sat down, smiling nervously, though I'm sure he knew that something had happened, that something was off. "I hate to cut this lunch short, Harry," I began, but I didn't get to finish.

"What's going on?"

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"What did Malfoy mean when he said you weren't so innocent last night? I thought you said you worked your first shift at the Poison Ivy last night. What gives?" I was trapped, there was no way around telling him the truth.

Unless I came up with a really creative lie, which is exactly what I did. "He was a customer," I was shaking, my voice was hardly strong, this whole charade would be over before it even began. "And you know how the Poison Ivy waitresses dress," he took me there for our second anniversary, "that's what he was referring to I guess."

Harry looked at me hesitantly, looking as though he was trying to decide whether or not to believe me. "Are you leaving to go with him right now?" Damn, he wasn't an Auror for nothing, he was aware of some things that were going on around him.

"I-I am actually." What else could I say? "I kind of promised him lunch," another lie, "I'm sorry to leave you here, really I am." Then again, so was that. I was lying up a storm, and yet I felt as content as could be. One day this would all come back to bite me in the ass, but for now it was good enough for me to lie and get away with it than get caught. "You can pick up the kids at Hermione's tonight, I'll see you tomorrow when you drop them off." I got up, grabbing my bag and leaving before he could stop me.

Malfoy had better have some damn good reason to pull me away from lunch with my ex-husband or else I was going to kill him. Not only had my cover almost been blown, I had laid out a chain of lies I wasn't sure I could remember anymore. "Damn you, Malfoy," I mumbled as I exited the restaurant, "what the hell have I gotten myself into?"

**REVIEW, PLEASE**


	6. Clothes and Consequences

**Author's Note**: Longest break I've taken between chapters so far. I'm amazed. :)  
So over 3600 views, 400 on the last chapter alone. Almost 60 reviews and we're  
getting closer to the 100 review award. Which I have to say is currently a tie between  
Blissfulxsin and Lostandawaiting. I'd like to thank all of you who are reading and  
reviewing, and the rest of you for just reading. This chapter took me a little time to  
come up with, and it was fun to write. So happy reading, my loves! :)

* * *

"You sicken me," Ginny spat as she sat down before me, hatred evident in her eyes. "Who gave you permission to stalk me? Blackmail me even?" She placed her bag beside her, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. "What. The. Hell."

I honestly didn't give a damn what she thought, though her pausing for dramatic effect was amusing. She was fuming, I knew she would be, and that's what I loved best about the whole situation. I knew that if I went to Harry Potter and tried to blackmail him or do something like this to that pansy ass, he wouldn't act the way Ginny was. She was giving me the satisfaction of getting to her, I loved that she had no idea of this either.

"Hello. Earth to Malfoy." Her voice was sharp, cutting through my thoughts. The first time I wanted to talk to her, one on one, I had nothing to say other than, 'you're fucked'. And that didn't even matter because Ginny just kept digging herself a hole, adding words to the soliloquy of her downfall. "You didn't issue a threat on my entire social life just to stare at me, did you? Because that's perverted." Yes, dig, Ginevra Weasley, dig.

"Shut up," I was annoyed already, "I won't be held responsible for my actions if you keep talking." Her jaw snapped shut, I wanted to smirk with superiority, instead I rubbed my throbbing temples. "You don't get the gravity of this situation, do you, Ginevra?" I'm not sure what was more confusing to the young woman; the fact that she was in over her head or that I'd used her first name. "You were right, I am blackmailing you," I shrugged, "and if you keep talking I'm going to hex you. This is the Poison Ivy, no one here cares what their customers do if they pay enough to keep mouths shut." Her eyes threatened to bulge, "You know how much I have in the bank," smirk, "I could buy my way out of anything."

Ginny just sat there, her jaw clenched tight and her fingers exercising themselves into fists as she stared on. Was she out of words? I didn't know, I didn't care, I just loved the fact that she wasn't talking. I loved leaving the women speechless, even if situations such as these. "You can't do that," she finally responded.

"I can't do what, Ginevra?"

"All of that." At least she didn't miss a beat. "You can't blackmail me. Or hex me. Or, or, or," she paused, "or call me Ginevra!" That was a rather extensive list, but when you're holding all the cards, it doesn't matter.

I only laughed, something very un-Malfoy like in the eyes of the public. Honestly, if they can't see that there's more than two facial expressions for Malfoys, then they are clearly head fucked. "Oh dear Ginevra," she was sending me death glares, "I can do all of that and more." Again she didn't respond, just remained glaring. "Not only is your social life in my hands, but your maternal life is in my hands as well."

It took Ginny a few seconds before she realized what I was saying and suddenly her eyes lit up with fear and anxiety, her arms unconsciously coming undone. "No, not my kids, please." Was she _begging_? "James and Albus, they-they-they're my life." If only those pleas didn't fall on deaf ears.

"Then you'll do everything I ask," the smirk finally crept up to my lips, "when I ask it and how I ask it."

"I'll quit."

"I'll blacklist you," the beats were quick and we were staying on them, "every place in England will know not to hire you."

"I'll move."

I laughed. "I have more power in France, Italy, and Romania than I do here in England, so go ahead, move." She was defeated, the look in her eyes showed me all I needed to know. "Anything else?"

"Call me Ginny."

"That's my girl," and the glint of determination and desire reached my eyes.

* * *

"Malfoy, I don't want to do this," Ginny growled, "people are going to see me." She crossed her arms over her chest for the millionth time since lunch, "I won't do it. You can't make me." This seemed to be her mantra since we stepped into Astoria's Closet, my ex-wife's clothing store. What part of Ginevra Weasley made her think that she could call the shots? Was she not aware of how easily I could destroy her?

"You can do it and you're going to do it," I waved my hand idly, "besides, there isn't much to see, now put the damn dress on." I was toying with her now, but she didn't see it that way. In Ginny Weasley's eyes I was being the biggest pain in the ass known to man. While this is probably true in her case, it's not in everyone else's. Ask Astoria.

Ginny just grumbled and ripped the dress out of my hand, "Fine," she bitched. She was a quick little devil, she was in and out of the dressing room before I could tell her it wouldn't be a problem for her to change in front of me. I mean, come on, I'd seen her last night, had I not? On the upside, she looked sexy.

"Wow," I breathed, "I wasn't sure if you'd fit into that dress, but it looks fucking gorgeous." Lacing my compliment with profanity only earned me a glare from the young redhead, who I was sure loved the dress just as much as I did. "I asked Laurante to get your measurements and whatever in the store fit or could be let out or taken in to fit." She dropped her jaw, recovering quickly. "While he works on that I have to speak to Astoria."

"You-you know Astoria Greengrass?" She asked me in an exasperated tone, I was sure she was going to wet herself from excitement. Astoria had been running this little boutique since she graduated, she threw herself into work after the divorce. Her clothes were famous throughout France and Russia, mostly because Astoria had opened up shops in those towns as well.

"We were married once," I yelled back as I walked away, I could _hear_ her jaw drop, "I inspired half the men's section."

I didn't stand around and wait for her response, I was more interested in finding Astoria. I hadn't seen her in over a year, mostly because she was touring in France and working on new designs. She never once asked for my help with Scorpius or anything of the sort, she was far more interested in taking care of him and keeping her sales raising without my help. I admired the woman, she was better with Scorpius than I ever was, even if he was only a baby when we got divorced.

"Draco Malfoy," the lyrical tone of seduction that whistled my name through the air could only come from one person, Astoria. I turned around to face the direction from where the voice came from, seeing my darling ex-wife smirking back up at me. I can honestly say that no one looked sexier in Astoria's designs than Astoria herself. "What brings you to Astoria's Closet?"

"What else, my love," I paused, letting a smile curl onto my lips, "to shop." Astoria had been one of the few people to ever make me smile, actually _smile_. That was something I loved about Astoria, but something I hated her for as well. "I brought one of Flint's darling little dancers," I could see her eyes spark with curiosity, "her body reminds me of yours." I stepped closer, the smile turning devious as my hands reached out and slipped around her middle.

Astoria and I always had explosive chemistry, it was what made our marriage worth sticking with for as long as I did. "Same movement, same sexual appeal," I leaned down, grazing my lips across her neck, "same shape." I wondered how long she'd let me continue, but it didn't bother me either way. Astoria and I had divorced because we couldn't stand marriage, it was too confining. We would always have a place for one another in each other's hearts, but marriage was out of the question. "Can you help me?"

"What are you going to do for me?"

"Depends," I toyed with the idea of what we could do this very moment, but Ginny would probably freak out if she knew what was going on. Not like I cared or anything, just that mentally scarring her wasn't on my list of things to do to the girl. "Are you off tomorrow?"

Astoria smiled into my chest, "Let's see what I can do." The proposal was made, accepted, and all that was left was Astoria being good on her word. Unfortunately it required her to pull her orgasmic body away from mine and smirk, practically floating towards the changing rooms as I followed suit, admiring her assets.

When we reached Ginny's dressing room, she was wearing a dark green summer dress, pushing her boobs together and out. I have to say that she looked good enough to touch, not something I ever thought I'd think about a Weasley. "Ginevra," her eyes bulged when she noticed my present company, "meet my ex-wife, Astoria Greengrass. My love," I waggled my eyebrows at the woman, "this is Ginevra Weasley." I could tell from the look on Astoria's face that she was questioning the person I'd brought into her boutique.

"You're Daphne Greengrass' sister?"

She glared at Ginny before going passive, "Indeed." I noticed the terse tone of voice she responded to Ginny in, I wanted to hold her back before she bit off Ginny's head, but I didn't have the time. "Draco told me you were Flint's new whore," her eyes lit up with a devious happiness, "I guess you're a good enough fuck to get him to bring you to my Closet."

"Astoria," I warned, "don't-"

"However," she took my unspoken words to heart, "that dress is gorgeous on you. However, tie the sash tighter and if you plan to wear it when you're _working_, use a hair curling spell and very little make-up or else you'll be overpowered." I could tell that Astoria wanted to cut Ginny down even more so than she had, but I'd trained her well. "I know I said I'd help you, baby," she turned to look up at me, placing her arms around my neck, "but I have a meeting in fifteen minutes with Dante from Rome, he's thinking about setting up an Astoria's Closet in Italy." I opened my mouth to respond and she placed hers on top of mine, using those experienced lips to draw a reaction I hadn't felt from her in ages. "I'll see _you_ later," she added loud enough for Ginny to hear.

I shouldn't have been worried about Ginny's reaction as Astoria skipped off to her "meeting", but as I stared at the awe-struck girl I noticed something I hadn't seen in her eyes before; jealousy. I was about to call her on it before she smiled kindly at Laurante and headed back into the changing room, emerging a couple minutes later in her original clothes with her hair in a high ponytail. Her eyes were filled with malice, the same feelings she'd always held towards me. I figured the jealousy was a fluke, it was all because I wanted to see her mad. Not for one second did I actually believe she cared.

"Laurante is packing up what fits," I gave her a once over, crinkling my nose, "I think you should have worn the sundress out, but your choice." She snubbed me though, raising an eyebrow before quickly rolling her eyes and turning away from me. Ginny was angry, the color rising in her cheeks gave evidence of that, so did her pushing passed me to find an exit. It took me a moment to realize what was going on and by then she was out the door. "Laurante, send that to Ginevra Weasley's flat," I said hastily before bidding her good-bye and heading after the girl.

She was making great speed, storming down Diagon Alley with an anger that I'd never seen in her before. It took me a couple minutes of crowd weaving before I caught up with her, grabbing her arm and whipping her around to face me. "What is your problem?"

"You are, Draco Malfoy," she spat. "I'm your little whore now?" I could hardly believe she was as angry about Astoria's remarks as she was making herself out to be. "Go to hell, Malfoy," she tried to rip her arm out of my hand but I held on tighter, pulling her closer. This only angered her more, I could tell by the way she started to wriggle even more.

"Stop it," I demanded, "calm down right now." Ginny only went limp, still glowering up at me. "Astoria can be a bitch, Ginny, she hates it when someone intrudes upon her territory."

"So now you're hers? Whipped yet, Malfoy?"

My grip tightened and I pulled her closer, her body now in complete contact with mine as I glared down at her. "You would do well to watch yourself," I threatened, "unless you want the Wizarding World to find out about your after hours job at the Lady then you'll keep your mouth shut."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak again, people around us stopping to stare on. I was going to kill the girl for making me do the unthinkable because she couldn't shut up. I didn't even think about my actions, just pressed my lips on hers and prayed for silence.


	7. Bosses and Blackmail

**Author's Note**: Another long break between chapters, sorry! I've been a little busy  
lately, or else I'd have written sooner and maybe not so dramatically. But anywho.  
Currently tied for the leading reviewer, Blissfulxsin and Lostandawaiting at a lovely  
eleven points. :) However, I have to recognize Noodles90, her review definitely gave  
me the extra oomph to finish this chapter. _Muchos gracias!_ If you can't tell, my  
Spanish is a little rusty. However, here is chapter seven after much thought and  
careful consideration of the chapter's final events. Don't. Hate. Me. _Por favor?_ Anywho.  
A little over twenty reviews from five thousand word chapter, which I might just  
make the next chapter anyways. ;) Anywho! Happy reading! Review, m'loves.

* * *

I melted into the kiss, my hand unconsciously reaching up and taking hold of Draco's jaw as his hands tugged at my waist. For a minute or so I forgot what it was like to kiss a man, I hadn't done it in so long. The most action I'd gotten, before my job at Lady Of The Night, was from an old wizard who accidentally fell onto me at the Three Broomsticks while I was ordering a Butterbeer. But as Draco's thumbs made circles on the cloth covering my hip, I began to remember what it was like to be passionate and almost truly happy. It was this natural high that I'd never felt before.

And then it ended. What goes up must come down, right? That's the logic muggle physicists - and Hermione - always use, it's called gravy or gravity or something. I realized what I was doing at what seemed like the same time Draco did, because we pulled away from each other and gave one another calculated looks. There was this moment of complete silence, my hand resting on his arms that sat in place on my hips. We were attached, the crowd dissipating but in deep conversation about what they'd just witnessed. If we would have been at all aware of what was going on around us, we would have noticed two bright, flashing lights and the sound of shutters clicking; a picture.

"Why did you do that?" I hissed, pulling away and touching my lips. They felt cool, lacking the warmth Draco had added to them.

"You will not tarnish my reputation or soil my name." I just laughed bitterly, shaking my head.

"No, I won't, because you do that well enough yourself. You, Draco Malfoy, just kissed me, Ginevra Weasley." He glowered, trying to find a way of talking himself out of this mess. "That's right, I didn't have to do a thing because you did it all yourself. Now if you don't mind, let me go."

He didn't remove his hands, he kept them in place and stared down at me. I wondered what he was thinking, but I was never all that skilled at blocking my mind, let alone reading someone else's. "No one of interest saw _it_," he referred to the kiss with disdain, I tried my hardest not to frown. "I'll see you tonight," he spoke curtly, "and wear something from Astoria's, it'll look far more classy than that shit you wore last night." Draco let me go, breathing deeply before opening his mouth to speak, "And heels. Wear heels." He astounded me.

"Of course your Fashion Highness." Draco just raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes and disappearing. "Ass," I mumbled, finally realizing that there were still a couple people trying to pretend that they weren't looking on with glee. "What are you staring at?" I bitched, "Mind your own business." Somehow, I didn't realize the effect that would have on the Quick Quotes Quill that was scratching away in an alley near by, the person using it watching on with malice in their eyes and the hope of a new story before them.

--

Some of what Draco had bought specifically for Lady of the Night looked more trashy than my schoolgirl outfit, at least in my eyes. I looked at some of the dresses and shirts, skirts and pants and realized that perhaps Draco had a thing for girls who showed a lot of skin. The only pair of jeans in the bunch was ripped everywhere from the butt down, except for the crotch. I even tried them on, quickly realizing that they were a size too small and made skin pop out of the rips, obviously the point of the jeans. I could kill that man, really, but I think my children wouldn't be too fond of visiting me in Azkaban.

I finally settled on a powder blue number, deciding that the hair-dress clash looked perfect. However, tying the dress around my neck - apparently the way it's supposed to be worn - was not an easy task. By the time I found a pair of heels that looked remotely good with the dress, I was muttering swear words under my breath at how much time I had wasted. Thanks to Draco Malfoy and his "fashion advice", I now had less than twenty minutes to get to work. While that wouldn't be a problem, I liked my pre-hour hour from the night before, even if I was rehearsing with Daphne. The familiar "ass" escaped my lips, the second time in several hours.

I said it a third when I reached Lady of the Night and saw Marcus sitting at his usual table with none other than Draco Malfoy. Did that man have anything better to do than watch me wriggle in decreasing comfort around him? That question was answered when he busted into my dressing room five minutes after I entered, looking as smug as ever.

"I'll have to send Astoria a 'thank you'," he walked up behind me, leaning against the back of my chair and looking me in the eye through the mirror, "it looks ravishing." The gleam in his eye said otherwise, at least in a sexual manner, he was only interested in getting back at me.

"Bite me, Malfoy," I couldn't help myself.

"Tut tut," I nearly got whiplash turning around to see who was speaking, "don't be so hostile, Gin." It was Marcus, the man who had the balls to call me Gin when he was probably signing my contract over to Draco. "Hostility is not a redeeming quality I award with the greatest honor of the night here at Lady." Now I was confused, Marcus could tell. Draco has resigned himself to sitting on my bed, examining his cuticles with such interest that I swear he was worse than a girl.

"What are you talking about, Marcus?"

"You owe me ten galleons," Draco smirked.

"Not yet," Marcus returned, "she hasn't even heard the good part." What were they betting on? And why did it have to do with me?

"What _is_ it?"

"Testy testy," he huffed, shaking his head. "Fine, fine, don't get your panties in a bunch." I was instantly reminded of how much I couldn't stand Marcus, sometimes he could be such an ass. "You're dancing the final number of the evening."

Between the time I was told the news and then walked out onto the floor, I remember hearing Draco claim again, "You owe me ten galleons." I had no idea that I would be required to procure an entire dance by midnight, nor did I have the time. I was beginning to think that Draco got off on seeing me shell-shocked and angered, because for the first twenty minutes of my shift he pointed at me and smirked, wriggling his finger in that "come hither" manner. And each time I ignored him, going to a different table and doing mental math to figure out if I still had time to back out of the ending number and if there were any other tables I could use long enough to stay away from Malfoy.

But after awhile Mister Malfoy got wise and had Marcus send other girls onto the floor, taking over my main tables and giving me a chance to take a break. If I'd have been smarter, I wouldn't have retired to my dressing room to take my break either. Ten minutes into the dance-creating-process, I was cornered by Marcus and his latest business partner, Draco Malfoy. I cringed, trying not to look at either of them as I repeated the steps to myself, pretending that they weren't there.

They sat there for a few more minutes, I could see them in the mirror. I just kept dancing, pretending that they weren't there. But every so often I would hear a chuckle and the boys would start whispering to each other. After a couple minutes, I was fed up with it, so I snapped. "What?" I turned around, angrily glaring at them both, "What is so funny?"

Draco and Marcus exchanged looks like it was all some rehearsed play, apparently I was on cue. "We figured you'd probably want to know what the finale requires." I gave them a withering stare, trying to make them feel inferior. However, it did not work, Malfoys and Flints were scared of nothing, at least in my books. Marcus nodded and Draco got up and in three swift steps, was by my side.

"What the hell is this?" I wouldn't have minded if Draco's hand was not grabbing at my waist the same way he had this morning. Memories of the earlier kiss popped into my head and for a moment I felt like I was spacing out, replaying the scene like a bad movie in my thoughts and before my eyes. If I hadn't felt an ounce of passion for Malfoy, then maybe it'd be a more pleasant experience. Sadly, we can't all get what we want.

"Finale requires you to drag up a member from the audience." Marcus was just eating this up, I could see that gleam of Slytherin slyness creeping up in his eyes. "It's how we keep the men coming back, sometimes even a female or two." He stood up, drawing to a full foot taller than me before he walked over, each step taking what felt like an eternity. As he stood in front of me I noticed the deep brown of his eyes and the creases in his face from the smirk on his lips. "The hope of dancing with a pretty girl always draws a crowd. With the publicity of Ember, the fire goddess of Lady, the crowd out there is _dying_ to meet, greet, and move their feet with you on that stage tonight." I had a feeling this wouldn't be good, especially since I had an even stronger inkling that _I_ was Ember.

"Which means," the way Draco's breath descended upon my neck made my body twitch, "you're going to call up the ever-charming Blaise Zabini." The name was the only thing that caught me off guard, I would have bet my life on Draco saying his own name. However, I thought it was a good opportunity to get far away from Malfoy, which was a good idea if I ever saw one. Then again, I didn't really know Zabini, so I couldn't prepare myself for anything that came next.

That was when I realized that my practicing and dancing since break began was for nothing, because now I'd be on stage with Blaise, doing Merlin knows what. Then an idea popped into my head, one so corrupt and defensive that I couldn't believe _I'd_ thought of it. It was **gold**. "Okay," I shrugged, feigning indifference, "Blaise Zabini it is." For some reason that didn't seem to be the reaction they were looking for, they seemed to pale considerably before leaving, a final 'get your ass back on the floor' entering my room before the door slammed shut. "Let the rebellion begin."

--

I'd been standing behind the curtain for an unknown amount of time, only aware that I had left the floor an hour ago and found my way to the backstage in between then and the time it took me to prep. I was mentally preparing myself for the fight to come, the game I would start playing. I was fully aware of the fact that I was straddling the fence between sanity and insanity, blackmail and being outed; but with prospect of pissing my new "friends" off, I didn't seem to notice. And that's when the lights went out and my body unconsciously made it's way onstage, surprising even me. I'd been here for two nights and already it felt routine!

Seconds later the spotlight came up, basking me in it's blue glow, I could feel everyone's eyes hungrily staring. There was a moment in between the music coming on and the silence ending that I thought about quitting, running away from this messy ordeal, but something had changed inside of me. Just standing in front of this audience of about a hundred, all their attention on me, I knew that I could never walk away without feeling remorseful. And suddenly Daphne's loyalty to Lady made sense, because I felt what couldn't be described in any word less than invincibility. The music turned on and my body got into the rhythm, finding that every eye that followed and every man that salivated gave me confidence.

Lady was a drug.

I could feel myself getting high off the attention, wrapping my legs around the pole as I slid down, my thoughts elsewhere as a few men in the audience wolf whistled. The heels made getting up hard, but on the stage with my breasts near-exposure to the crowd seemed to be what they wanted because the attraction factor was growing. Before I knew it, it was time to grab Blaise from the audience. My eyes looked in his direction before flitting in the opposite direction, landing on a faintly familiar face. Michael Corner?

I wasn't sure, but I knew that whoever it was would be perfect. Swiftly but gracefully I got to my feet, the instrumental of the song playing to the beat of my heels against the floor as I walked in the man's direction. Eyes followed, I could feel the disappointment of every man who momentarily crashed when he wasn't chosen. But as I pushed my hand out towards the man, a small mental note that it _was_ Michael Corner reminded me that I was going against what Marcus and Draco had told me. "Want to dance?" And in that very moment, I couldn't have been more happy with my choice.

Leading him to the floor had been a much faster, less seductive walk than the one there. The show had to go on, there were still five minutes of music and the instrumental was winding down. As I stepped on stage the lyrics filled the room and I pulled Michael towards me, the shy reminder of who I was returning. I vaguely remembered dating him at Hogwarts, how he left me for Cho Chang, the same way Harry had. Pent up anger and regret for ever having laid my eyes upon me hit me, draining the minute Michael grabbed my ass. I had withdrawn for a second and hadn't even noticed the change until he squeezed, fully enjoying himself. I didn't have to look in Flint's direction to know that he was amused, nor in Draco's to know that he was pissed; somehow I think I'd won them both other in different ways.

But momentary desire for revenge took over and I smiled up at Michael, winking before I pulled away and moved back to the safety of the pole. He looked floored for a minute, unsure of what to do next. I wondered if this was as new to him as it was to me, I'd never watched Daphne or any of the enders dance before, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. But I figured that's what had the crowd wanting more, the innocence in my eyes and the newness of it all. So when Michael walked up behind me and turned me around, I wondered if the collective gasp meant that he shouldn't have done that. It wasn't until his lips came in contact with mine that I knew I was doing something wrong, something wasn't right anymore. The audience was well aware of that little fact as well, because they started yelling. And suddenly, above the music and the crowd, I heard the booming voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Corner." And he obeyed. I hoped that I hadn't intentionally set off downward spiral of events with that stupid kiss, it wasn't even supposed to happen. But as security hauled Michael off the stage and the music stopped, lights cutting to black and a voice telling everyone it was time to leave, I realized that I'd been in the wrong. I cringed the entire time I walked back to my dressing room, unsure if I could handle what was sure to be an outrage from my boss and my blackmailer. I didn't have to wait long, or at all for the matter. I closed the door and relatively ten seconds later - by the time I'd reached the chair in front of my mirror - it was open again.

"Apparently Greengrass didn't inform you of the rules!" I wasn't sure who was more pissed, to be honest. Draco was speaking but the fury in Marcus's eyes said otherwise. "First, if you're told to do something, you better fucking do it." He stormed up to my chair, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of it roughly. I couldn't blame him if I wanted to, even if I was corrupted by the attention, I still knew what I had done was wrong. "Secondly, if someone ever starts using _you_, you kick their mother-fucking ass off the stage or get someone else to do it." He glared, fuming. "Do you understand me?"

I managed a nod before he let my arm go, but I was still trembling inside. "On the upside," Marcus broke through the tense silence, "you were a walking advertisement all night. We'll be running a segment in Announcements of the Daily Prophet that Lady has a new, groundbreaking dancer." He walked over and smiled down at me, "Good job, Ginny Weasley. Even if you did break a couple cardinal rules," Marcus gave off that stern-vibe for a moment, "you're making the Lady more popular than ever before. The last time this happened we ended up with a packed club, maybe this time we'll get to turn people away." Marcus winked before he nodded his head towards the door, Draco giving me a last glare before he followed suit, slamming the door on his way out.

--

By the time I was dressed and ready to go home, it was later than I would have hoped. I was tired and knew that the moment my head hit the pillow, I'd be dead to the world. I wanted to say good-bye to Marcus and thank him for everything, even if I hated myself a little on the inside. But Flint had released a monster, and while it felt good to have that person take over, it was scary as well. However, saying thank you also meant I would follow the rules next time, and I really would. Really. I yawned as I walked down the long hallway, heading towards the floor in search of the boss who wasn't in his office. Suddenly I heard two voices yelling in hushed whispers and immediately I knew who it was.

"She was good, Malfoy." Obviously Marcus.

"But she kissed Corner!"

"Who gives a fuck?"

"I do!" There was a pause in the conversation, I held my breath. Why did he care? "It's bad for the business." But his response had come to late, both Marcus Flint and I knew that.

"What's going on, Draco?" Concern.

"Nothing."

"Did anyone tell you you're a bad liar?" A hesitant chuckle. "But seriously, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Marcus."

"Really? Because that sounds a lot like-"

"Don't you dare say it!"

"-jealousy."

"Hell fucking no, Marcus Flint, hell fucking no." Draco huffed, "I do not get jealous, especially over some bitchy, stuck-up, ex-wife of Harry fucking Potter." I heard his steps drown out whatever Marcus tried to say. "There's nothing to be jealous of, Flint! If she's working here then she's nothing more than a whore!"

And suddenly I felt like everything crashed, the high from the earlier adventure now coming down. A whore? Had he not defended me when Astoria called me that?

"Ass." It was all I could say, I was too hurt to say anything else.

But why?


	8. Articles and Adventures, Part 1

**Author's Note**: This is the beginning of the 5,000 word post. Because it's taken me awhile  
to get this far - and this is about half - I decided I'd just post this for now. I'm still working  
on the ending. :) On the brightside, it means I've reached my goals, or I'm about six reviews  
from reaching my goals. Which means the winner of the one-shot will be chosen in the  
next chapter. So review away, and I'm sorry I took so long. Happy reading!

* * *

"Marcus is an ass." I paced the length of the Malfoy library, eyes flaring while Astoria meddled in my desk drawers. I should have known better than to invite her into my house, I'd spent enough time being married to her, I knew what she was like. "Pay attention!" Her head snapped up, glared, and then went back to examining whatever it was that had caught her eye.

"I don't see the probably, D," she picked up a gold pen, looking at it as though it was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen, "you've got the Weasley girl right where you want her. Where did Marcus come into all of this?" If she'd have been listening instead of acting like a snoopy wife trying to catch her husband in the act of cheating, she'd have realized I said it about five times now. Then again, that was why I said it five times now, because I knew she wasn't fully paying attention.

"Corner practically molested her on stage." It was a lie, but I didn't care.

Astoria dropped the pen, slamming the desk drawer shut and raising an eyebrow in my direction. I hated when she acted as though I'd just said the most peculiar thing, though this time she looked the way she did the morning I off-handedly offered the idea of a divorce. "What does the Weasley's near-rape have to do with this?"

"Nothing," I hesitated, trying hard not to let her notice, "but I don't go to the Lady to see girls get raped."

"But that isn't what you're interested in." Damn her for being good enough to read me, something I always hated about our relationship. "What is it about this little Weasel that has your knickers in a bunch?" I figured I had to tell her something, but what?

I tried to think of something, but Astoria was closing in on me, walking closer and closer with more curiosity in her eyes than I'd seen in ages. There was something about watching a scandal happen that interested that girl far more than it should have. "If you must know, I'm extracting revenge on the girl. I'd rather be the one to cause her mental harm than some deranged, prudish Ravenclaw." That didn't throw Astoria off, but gave her reason to stop in her tracks. That look on her face made me curious as to what was going on inside her head, but I didn't dare try and read her thoughts. I tried to do that once when we were married, shortly afterwards I was sporting a whiplash from her verbal response. "Now stop staring at me like that and let's go get some breakfast."

I should have realized earlier on in the game that nothing in the wizarding world ever stays a secret, especially scandals. As Astoria and I walked down to breakfast, holding hands like the married couple we once were, my thoughts traveled back to Marcus Flint's chide of me being jealous. That couldn't be true, I knew it couldn't have been. I'd known Ginevra Weasley for years, never once had I felt anything but hatred for the woman. It didn't matter though, because Marcus sensed something or else he wouldn't risk his life - not to mention financial backing - calling me jealous. But I couldn't figure out what.

"Draco?" Astoria snapped me out of my reverie. I released her hand and pulled out a chair for her, taking a seat at the other end of the table. I remembered having dinners with my mother and father at this table, many of which were shared with Death Eaters and other particularly evil guests. I recollected the few dinners I shared with Astoria when we weren't busy doing other things or having sex, often times using each other for plates during the sexual peak of our relationship. Those were the good days, easy going. Too bad everything had to end, it might have been nice for it to continue.

As the food appeared on the table and plates materialized before Astoria and I, we started piling on an array of colors and sizes onto our plates. The Daily Prophet was sitting right beside my plate, folded perfectly, just the way I liked in. I looked at the cover picture and went back to my food, placing a forkful of eggs into my mouth before I choked. Astoria was by my side trying to give me the Heimlich maneuver before I realized what was happening.

"Draco! Are you okay?" I couldn't stop coughing and was trying to swallow some water, maybe moisten my throat. "Talk to me, Draco."

"Shut up!" I yelled before standing up, my chair flying back behind me as I grabbed the Prophet and violently opened it. I felt Astoria move up behind me, checking out the picture the same way I was. There on the cover was a detailed photo of Ginny and I kissing in Diagon Alley, her arms looking to be around my neck as mine stretched around her waist. If the apparent "story" of the kiss hadn't filled up the entire first page, I might appreciate the photo for what it was: magic. It didn't help that there were photos of them eating lunch either, or exiting Astoria's Closet together.

**Fire and Ice: The Ending Of A Feud**

The Wizarding World has been plagued by the Malfoy-Weasley feud for decades, dating back to the fourteenth century when Atticus Weasley and Demetrio Malfoy stole from each other and started the blood battle we now know today as the war of good versus evil. But has the fate of a young Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy ended this feud?

It is said that during their Hogwarts days, Draco and Ginny were of rival houses and rival families, including friends that hated one another just as much. Ginevra Weasley - mother of James and Albus Potter - dated and married Draco Malfoy's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. Potter and Malfoy's Hogwarts history stems back to a first year event when Malfoy was said to offer his friendship to Mister Potter and was denied, creating an instant hatred between the two. While such a thing couldn't live up to the Weasley hatred that has reigned for decades, it did cause quite the stir within the Hogwarts walls.

Draco Malfoy was said to have married fashion designer Astoria Greengrass, sister to legendary goddess of Lady of the Night, Daphne Greengrass. While they fashioned a gorgeous family of their own - Astoria giving birth to a handsome Mister Scorpius Malfoy - their divorce hit the papers almost around the same time that Harry Potter's and Ginevra Weasley's did. Who would have believed that the Boy-Who-Lived would ever have something in common with Malfoy, especially someone as sweet and innocent as their darling little Ginevra Weasley.

But is Ginevra Weasley _really_ that innocent?

She was seen exiting the Lady of the Night a couple days ago by a Mister Seamus Finnigan who had the following statements to offer: "I was out getting groceries and some things for my girlfriend when I saw Ginny exiting the Lady of the Night. I called after her and I swear she turned around, but she disapparated after that. She looked like she was wearing a skirt, it looked a lot like the one she wore at Hogwarts. I tried her flat the next day but she wasn't there, it all makes sense now."

When asked about the possible relationship between Draco and Ginevra, Seamus laughed and responded: "Ginny and Malfoy? They're odd coupling indeed. Ginny never took a liking to him, in fact, in our fifth year she attacked Malfoy with a Bat Bogey Hex. And Malfoy, he always made fun of Ginny. He provoked her and she fought back, they hated each other, just like their ancestors. But hey, if a good shagging ends this feud, more power to them. I don't want my children - should I have any - to go to school with the Malfoy-Weasley feud still hanging over their heads." Finnigan went on to explain that Draco Malfoy is quite the benefactor of Marcus Flint's gentleman club and spends a great amount of time at the club itself.

After being spotted with the gorgeous Ginevra Weasley at the Poison Ivy during the lunch hour, puzzle pieces began to find their places on the board. It wasn't until a picture was taken of them kissing in Diagon Alley that their relationship was exposed.

Ex-husband Harry Potter was asked about his opinion on his ex-wife's relationship with Draco Malfoy and he had the following concerns to express: "Gin's not dating Draco Malfoy. I don't know why she was kissing him, but she wouldn't sink that low. Having a relationship with that filth is below Ginny. Even if she was desperate - and I can assure you that she is not - she wouldn't compromise her morals and her integrity just for some fun fling with the devil incarnate. Besides, you probably magically enhanced the damn photo. My Ginny would never do that."

After being asked about having been seen with Ginny yesterday at lunch and then the photograph of Ginny popping up eating lunch with Draco afterwards, Mister Potter had more to say: "Yes, she did see Malfoy yesterday, but not because she's dating him. He came and interrupted our perfectly serene lunch to say Merlin knows what to Gin. She's not my wife, just because she had lunch with Malfoy doesn't mean I'm going to blow up or get jealous. I have to get back to work now, I have a living to make, I'm not Draco Malfoy; I can't throw money at my problems and hope they disappear. Stupid bloke. Gin's not dating that self-obsessed arse, and you can quote me."

It looks like Mister Potter is jealous of his ex-wife's new relations with Malfoy and from the looks of things, he has good reason to be. Draco Malfoy has been called the Casanova of the Wizarding World and if he has his eyes set on Ginevra Weasley, then he will achieve what he is out to get.

You heard it here first.

_Rita Skeeter_

I was glad that breathing happened by itself or else I would have stopped. What kind of sick, deranged person destroyed someone else's future the way Rita Skeeter had mine? Did she realize that kissing a Weasley and ending the so-called feud did nothing for my reputation? I felt capable of murder as I chucked the paper at the floor, storming out of the room.

Astoria's footsteps were clear behind me, so I walked faster. I didn't want to listen to her ask a thousand questions about that kiss or the lunch or the fact that I hadn't told her the entire story when it came to why I was pacing over Ginny this morning. So I whipped around and glared down at her, "I don't want to hear it." She stopped, crossing her arms over her chest and returning my glare. "If you're going to act like a bitch, then get the fuck out. No, better yet, I'll leave." I walked to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder, and yelled, "Ginevra Weasley's flat!"

--

I looked around the room I landed in and all I could see were two pairs of eyes gazing at me, wide and confused and scared. Probably Ginny's little devil kids, Harry Potter's spawn from hell. I thought about asking them what they were looking at, but a smiling Ginny entered the room chasing after them. Obviously they were playing some sort of game before I arrived, but that didn't bother me, I had more important things to attend to. However, watching Ginny go from comfortable housemother to professional greeter made me do a double take. One minute she's smiling and happy and playing with her kids, the next she's wearing half a glare and raising an eyebrow at me. She hasn't read the Prophet yet, I can tell.

"James, sweetie, take your brother into the kitchen, I'll be there in a couple minutes to make breakfast." She was a good mother, I would give her that much. Ginny smiled as brightly as she could, ushering the youngsters into the kitchen before rounding on me with looks to kill. "What are you doing in my living room, Malfoy? Didn't torture me enough last night?"

"For one night, yes," I crossed my arms over my chest, "but apparently not Rita Skeeter." Ginny tilted her head, frowning. As I had suspected, she hadn't seen the article yet. "Go get your copy of the Daily Prophet, you'll understand."

"I've already read it." She didn't look nearly as pissed as I felt, looked, or was thinking she might have been. "The only reason James and Albus are here was because I had to convince Harry that there was nothing going on between you and I. He already threatened to take the kids until I got my _mess_ figured out." Ginny just glared up at me, challenging me to get a word in edgewise. "I have enough on my plate as it is, Malfoy, I don't need you adding your crap to it. Now if you don't mind-"

"I do mind." Her glare intensified. "We need to talk."

Ginny snorted a laugh, rolling her eyes before placing her hands on her petite little hips. "Unless you plan on helping me make breakfast for the boys, I suggest we talk in a couple days at the Lady." I forgot it was Monday, the first of her two days off. I couldn't wait that long to talk to Ginny, especially with the rumors that were obviously going to flood the Wizarding World in the next two days if neither one of us put a stop to them.

"Then I'll help you."

(to be continued)


	9. AUTHOR'S NOTE, UPDATED 12 08

Clearly I haven't been all too successful at updating this story,  
and I apologize for that. I've actually given custody of this little  
fanfic to my friend Jes and you'll be able to get to her via name:

My Lady Jes or her main number thingamabob - 794428

She's going to be restarting the fic from the beginning and I  
can assure you that she's a fantastic writer and it'll be nicely  
done. I'll be retiring from , at least writing - for now that  
is. She says she'll have the first chapter up before Friday the  
11th, so follow her or whatever. It's supposed to be called  
"I'm In Love With A Stripper", so be on the look out!


End file.
